Southern Sunshine
by justfandomwritings
Summary: There was nothing in this world Deria would not do for her family, which was precisely how the poor girl had managed to find herself in this position. A Martell of Dorne depending on, putting her life in the hands of a Lannister of Casterly Rock. She could practically feel her brother's shame from here. And what's worse? She didn't care.
1. Prologue: The Letter

**_This is an edit of my original prologue. The original was much longer and included Deria and Oberyn's reaction to the letter, but I feel like that gave away too much of the coming plot, so I've edited it down to just the letter Elia sent._**

* * *

_Dear Sister,_

_I am deeply sorry that I have not had the time as of late to write you. As you are aware, my pregnancy has taken a great toll on me, both physically and emotionally. I have been left very pressed for time and am sorry that our communication had to suffer because of it._

_That said, my pregnancy has finally come to an end, which is why I write to you. I have had my babe this past week, and the gods have been good to us. The babe is a healthy boy who Rhaegar has named Aegon. He is so beautiful, Deria; I cannot wait for you to see him._

_Which bring me to the point of my letter. My most recent birth has left me incredibly weak. The maester says it was lucky I survived. I was left very weak last time, but this time is far worse. It has been suggested that I get a nurse to assist me with Rhaenys and Aegon, but I am not sure, Deria. Strange things are going on here in King's Landing, and I am worried, wondering if there is anyone left that I can trust._

_I do not want anyone to have to help me with my children. They are mine. I am their mother. I should be able to take care of them; it is my job as such. Though if I do need help than at the very least I want it to come from someone I trust. I do not trust the people here. _

_Deria, please, I am begging you. I know you love home, and I know you never wish to leave, but there is no one else I can trust. I would not ask if it was not of the utmost importance, if there was any other alternative. Please, I beg you. Travel to King's Landing. Join me in the castle. Help me until I am able to take care of my children on my own again. I ask for nothing more or less than what I would gladly do for you, dear sister._

_Send your answer back within a fortnight, and should you choose to help I will send a guard to escort you on the road to King's Landing. _

_With Love, Your Sister_

_Princess Elia Targaryen of House Martell_


	2. Noted

Deria huffed and picked up her skirts as she rushed through the castle. On the day she had replied to her sister's letter she had been most excited about the prospect of going to Kings Landing again, but she had certainly not counted on having to wake up early this morning before her lessons and dress as a 'proper, respectable princess' to go down and greet a few of the Kingsguard who would be escorting her.

Deria was slightly irritated at the thought of it, to be honest. If her sister was so uncomfortable and untrusting of Kings Landing that she sent for Deria to come care for her children then why was she trusting Kingsguard to escort her? Doran had already informed her that he would be providing the primary body of soldiers for her protection, the Kingsguard were more there for show. So what was the point?

Deria rushed out onto the front steps of the castle just as the gates came rolling open, and she quickly stepped down beside her brother, Oberyn.

"Straighten your skirts, Deria," Doran told her with a chuckle.

"Sorry," The girl laughed at herself and fixed her skirt that was bunching up.

"Here they come," Oberyn straightened his stance as a group of four or so horses and their riders, clad fully in their armor, came rushing through the open gates.

The men rode in and dismounted their horses a few yards in front of the Martells. A group of waiting stable hands rushed forward to meet them and took the reins of the horses, guiding them away with some effort as the men approached the castle.

While the rest lagged back, taking a moment to remove their helms and straighten themselves before meeting the nobles, one stepped up onto the lower steps of the castle and removed his helm. "Hello my beautiful niece and nephews."

"Uncle Lewyn, it is good to see you again." Doran greeted him with a bow. "I only regret that you are not staying for longer."

Lewyn Martell chuckled at his nephew's comment, "But then, who would protect our little sunshine here on her road to Kings Landing." Lewyn bowed respectfully to Doran and did the same again for Oberyn.

Oberyn returned the bow respectfully before Lewyn turned his attention to the youngest Martell. "Good evening, Princess," Deria's uncle smiled and took a step closer, placing a loving kiss on the little girl's cheek. "I am grateful to have the opportunity to escort you to Kings Landing. It has been too long since I was delighted with your presence."

Lewyn stepped up onto the step beside her and waved his hand out towards the rest of the Kingsguard who were now at attention in front of Lewyn, "Theses will be your guard for the time being. I'd like to introduce Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Gwayne Gaunt, and Ser Jaime Lannister." Deria gave a polite curtsey to the men, which the group returned with a collective bow.

"It is our pleasure to host knights of the Kingsguard." Doran announced, drawing the attention to himself for a moment. "If you'll excuse me, I have a few things to discuss with my brother and my uncle, but as thanks for your upcoming service to our family, Deria here will show you the chambers we've prepared."

Deria watched her brothers and uncle into the castle, waiting until she was sure they were gone to discuss whatever their private matters were before she turned to the men at her steps. "Please, follow me. I do hope your chambers are to your liking."

Deria picked up her skirts again and led the men back into the castle. "I'm sure we will, Princess," Ser Barristan spoke for the group as they followed behind her.

Deria gave the older man a warm smile and held back a step to allow the knights to walk by her side. "Kind words, Ser Barristan. I hope they are true." Her brothers and uncle were out of sight, as she led the troop of men down the hall and up a flight of stone steps. They went down several long corridors before Deria finally slowed her pace.

"Should any of you need assistance," Deria turned her head over her shoulder to address the group, "the kitchens are on the opposite side of the castle; there are plenty of squires and the like down in the tiltyard on the north side of the Castle grounds. That's also where you'll usually find me, if you can find no one else."

They turned one more corner and were greeted by a row of doors on either side of the hall, guest quarters. "These will be your quarters, Ser Barristan," She started walking down the hall waving her hand at each individual door as she spoke, "Ser Gwayne, and Ser Jaime. I'll leave you all to rest and send someone for you when dinner is served." The knights each gave their thanks as they headed to their respective rooms.

As Deria headed back up the hall passed the men, her foot caught on the hem of her dress, which she had not realized she had dropped, and she fell face first into Ser Jaime as he headed to his own chambers.

"Careful there, Princess." Jaime stumbled back slightly but managed to get a good grip on Deria before they both fell to the floor.

As he helped her steady her feet, Deria looked up to Jaime Lannister with a nervous smile. "I am terribly sorry, Ser Jaime. Sometimes, my legs move faster than my body can keep up with it seems."

Jaime chuckled at the girl's humor and smiled. "That is not always a bad thing, Princess."

As the girl smoothed over her skirts and regained her breath, Jaime took a second to look her over. Deria was young, a few years younger than himself, and even at that young age he could tell that she was the most beautiful woman he would ever lay his eyes upon.

Her hair was as jet black as the night sky, just like the rest of her family. Unlike most women of the South she did not bother to style it at all, opting instead to let it hang down to her waist in loose curls that reminded Jaime more of a dark wave in the ocean, flowing like water, more than real hair. It went perfectly with olive tan she had no doubt inherited and built up over years on the beautiful Dornish beaches. If Jaime didn't know any better he would say the girl had dipped her skin in liquid gold itself.

As beautiful as her hair, her skin, her body in general was, nothing was going to compare to the face staring back at Jaime. Those deep brown eyes, wide with curiosity, felt like they were looking into his very soul, but the smile on her face made him feel as if he would not mind her seeing that part of him. Her beautiful, full lips were framing her perfectly white teeth, and her strong cheekbones were the setting stone for all of her features.

"I think it usually is, especially when I stumble into handsome knights from the capital," Deria blushed as she realized what she had just admitted.

There was no denying it though. Jaime Lannister was incredibly attractive. He was only a few years older than her, that much she knew. Yet despite that small age gap she still felt like a child in his presence. It likely had something to do with the fact that even at this young age there were already rumors swirling of his greatness. Supposedly, Jaime was one of the best swordsmen Westeros had ever seen, and he wasn't even full grown yet.

That did nothing to surprise Deria though. Everything about Jaime screamed golden perfection. His features were perfectly formed; his height was far above her own; his build was perfect for a young knight, no doubt from long hours spent tiring away in a tiltyard. His skin, like his hair, his armor, his sword, his shield, was gold. The only thing that wasn't gold were his bright green eyes that stared back into her own with a mixture of amusement and gratitude.

"I hardly consider it a bad thing for a lady as beautiful as yourself to fall into me. If it troubles you though, know that I would never let you fall. I swear no harm will come to you on my watch, Princess." There was a teasing tone behind his voice that broke the tension of his words, but Deria could not help but hope that he meant what he said.

"Well, Ser Jaime," Deria stepped back, trying to hide the redness in her cheeks with her hair, and gave him a proper curtsey, "thank you for your assistance. If you need anything of me I shall be in the tiltyard until dinner."

Jaime watched the girl scurry off down the hall. He could almost feel the confusion radiating from her every move. He didn't know it was possible for a girl to be that confident and nervous at the same time.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head before ducking inside the chambers she'd shown to him.

* * *

"Good evening, Jaime," Gwayne stepped towards the youngest member of the Kingsguard as the boy exited his quarters an hour later.

Jaime looked up and nodded to the older knight. "Good evening, Gwayne. Any plans for your first evening in Dorne?"

Gwayne joined Jaime, and the pair of them wandered the corridors of the palace on their way to the stairs. "Nothing in particular, I must admit I have never been to Dorne. Have you?"

Jaime thought back in his memories. "I have been here once in my youth, but that was before Doran came to power, and I do not believe he was here at the time, and Deria was just a babe."

"She is certainly no babe anymore," Gwayne chuckled as the pair stepped onto the staircase and descended. "Did she say earlier that she would be in the tiltyard?" He asked back over his shoulder of Jaime.

Jaime nodded, "Yes, she did. Perhaps we could go see her there."

As they stepped out onto the ground floor of the palace, Gwayne waved over a maid who was cleaning a table in the corner. "Where is your prince's tiltyard?"

The maid waved a hand to an entryway behind them, "The tiltyard is on the north side of the gardens. Some of the palace guards are training there with Prince Oberyn now. Princess Deria also went that direction a moment ago."

"I'm very curious what a woman of her status could possibly be doing in a tiltyard," Gwayne turned his attention to Jaime. There was an expression of disbelief and humor on Gwayne's face, "Watching her brothers, I suppose."

The maid's eyes flashed an almost vicious expression at Gwayne, but it was gone so quickly Jaime was sure he'd imagined it. "In Dorne," The woman spoke up, gaining back the older knight's attention from Jaime, "noble men and women are both given the opportunity to learn to fight, should they choose." There was a very defensive tone in the way the woman spoke, and Jaime knew that Princess Deria must be much loved by her people. "The princess spends a good deal of time in the tiltyard, particularly when Prince Oberyn is there to help her train, Ser Gaunt."

Gwayne did not seem to like this answer. From the little time Jaime had known the man he could attest to the fact that, while he was a good fighter in his own right, he was not always kind. "Let's go see the precious little princess then," Gwayne shot under his breath, heading out in the direction the maid pointed him.

Jaime bowed to the maid, who still seemed rather put out by the tone Gwayne had talked about the princess in, and followed after his comrade. "Perhaps we should not make enemies in the house of our princess's family."

"What do we care? With any luck, we will never see this place again at the end of a week's time." Gwayne waved off Jaime's suggestion and marched passed the gardens into the tiltyard.

The sight that greeted them served only to prove the maid's point. While the tiltyard was primarily men, sporadically throughout the pairs of sparring partners were groups of women, mostly sparring each other but some sparring newer soldiers. Prince Oberyn was easy enough to spot. He sat resting on a bench to the left of the entryway, looking out to the eastern side of the yard where the targets were.

"Prince Oberyn," Gwayne greeted him, calling the prince's attention. "Ser Jaime and I thought we might come see your tiltyard."

Oberyn rose to his feet and set aside the water he'd been drinking. "Would either of you have an interest in sparring a few rounds?" Oberyn knelt to the ground and picked up his sword from beside his feet. "I only just finished a round, but I'm sure I am rested enough for a member of the Kingsguard."

"Perhaps later," Gwayne dismissed the offer, "Or perhaps Ser Jaime will oblige you, but I had hoped, since you Dornish are so famous for it, to see your spears."

Oberyn chuckled and swung his sword back around his hip, gesturing a hand for Gwayne to proceed past him. "Later then, I will show you the way."

Jaime followed behind the older two men, surveying the yard as they walked around the edge towards the other side. The eyes of those who were not sparring were on Jaime and Gwayne. Kingsguard were generally not seen this far south. It was unexpected, and, Jaime thought, probably unwelcome.

While the other side of the courtyard, near the sword sparring, had many swords of all shapes, sizes, and materials propped against its benches, this side had various types of spears laying along the ground or propped against the wall as close as possible. The men practicing with their spears seemed to take up far more space than the duels on the other side, and no benches had been added so they could use every possible inch of space available.

"Deria!" Oberyn called his sister who Jaime now noticed out in the yard spinning a spear in her hands. "The Kingsguard wish for spears."

Deria turned to her brother and set aside the spear in her hand. It was a relatively short spear, no doubt due to the girl's own height. "Of course Sers," She said when she spotted Jaime and Gwayne, "I will go see what I can find." She dashed off towards a rack propped against one of the courtyard walls, moving slowly as she was still hindered by her skirts.

"Deria does not like swords," Oberyn waved a hand to the spear his sister left. "She finds them rather unwieldy and slow. For years I have been trying to convince her to take proper lessons, but she'd much rather practice with her spears." Oberyn grabbed a spear from along the wall and held it out to Gwayne and Jaime. "This is one of mine."

Gwayne took the spear before Jaime could try to grab it. "Quite long, spears are," Gwayne commented, examining the weapon in his hands. "Harder to handle."

"For some," Oberyn conceded. "Harder to handle, but far lighter than any sword. Makes them much faster."

Deria came back over in a flurry of movement, carrying a spear under either arm. "I hope these will do. Most of the longer spears are in use already by this time of day." She handed over the spears to Jaime and Gwayne, picking back up her own.

"Even if it wouldn't do, would we really know the difference?" Jaime tried to be lighthearted, but the mood was gone from the serious tones of Oberyn and Gwayne.

Deria's cheeks turned slightly pink at his comment, and she turned back to her brother. "Will that be all?"

"Why don't you show the Sers here a thing or two? I do believe I see our dear uncle coming, and I cannot resist a good fight."

Gwayne chuckled at Oberyn's enthusiasm and turned to watch the man leave. "Now there is a fight I want to see." He set aside the spear and followed after him.

"Appears it's just you and me, Princess," Jaime chuckled.

Deria rolled her eyes in the direction of her brother, "Appears so… Oberyn's never been one to shy away from a good fight, even one he knows he'll lose."

Jaime raised an eyebrow at her, "You think he'll lose?"

She chuckled and swung the spear up over her shoulder with a graceful ease. "No, I think he'll win, but even a fight you know you'll win isn't necessarily a fight worth trying." Deria turned and waved Jaime to follow her onto the yard. "Like now, clearly you've never trained with a spear before. I could best you easily with one, but that doesn't mean I should try."

"I would greatly appreciate not being humiliated in front of my comrades," Jaime nodded his head casually in the direction of Lewyn and Gwayne.

Deria smiled at that, "Noted. I would greatly appreciate not dying. My point being that I could beat you here, in this setting, but why would I when I know my life will be in your hands a fortnight from now?" Deria swung the spear off her shoulder and twirled it in her hands. "My brother loves a fight. It'd be wise of your friend," She pointed the tip of her spear in Gwayne's direction, "not to goad him into one."

Jaime gripped the spear in his hand and rolled it around, trying to get a feel for the weapon. "Wise words for a girl so young," he mused.

"I am hardly younger than you; there's no reason to be surprised I have a brain," Deria's tone was teasing, but her eyes spoke volumes of just how often she was underestimated this way.

"Noted." Jaime repeated back to her and shot her his usual smile. "Now, show me how you wield this thing."

* * *

_**So I don't usually post fanfictions for stuff like Game of Thrones, or even post on this website for that matter. But I've had this idea jostling around in my head for a while, and I wanted to see how it played out.**_

_**I don't know if I'll keep this going. Really depends on if anyone bothers reading it or not, for starters. **_

_**Hope y'all enjoy! (Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the GoT universe... obviously). **_


	3. Marry Your Gold

_**Hi there, hope you guys enjoy this! Not sure how I feel about this yet, but I plan to keep this story going, at least for a little while. Just to see where it goes, ya know? **_

**blood red crystal: Thanks for the review, first off, and I'm glad you liked the start. The time was kind of the reason I wanted to write it. I find the Targaryen dynasty rather fascinating, more importantly why everyone let it continue so long after the dragons. That's not the point though. I guess I just like the idea of pre-rebellion Jaime. A little cocky and for good reason, but not overly so because he's not done much yet and still doesn't really have a reason to be cocky. Plus, he's not really as... is crude the word for it? I guess so... not as crude because he's yet to endure the decades of people insulting him and calling him the 'Kingslayer'.**

* * *

"Are you ready, Princess?" Ser Barristan asked, looking around to affirm that the Kingsguard and the Martell soldiers were ready as well.

"As I will ever be," Deria nodded to the knight and mounted her horse. She guided the horse over to the steps of the palace where her two brothers stood surveying the guards. "I won't be gone too long, just until Elia's well again."

Doran smiled rather sadly at his sister, "We do not know how long that will take, my dear. But until then, I want you to promise you will be careful of yourself and watch out for Elia when you arrive."

Deria nodded but didn't bother replying aloud. Of course she would try to be careful. Of course she would protect her sister if she had to. Elia was the older of the two, but she had always been the more fragile one of the four siblings. If she needed protecting, like her letter would suggest, Deria would be glad to do the job.

Oberyn stepped down next to Deria's horse and gently stroked a hand over its neck. "Ride quickly, Deria. Dorne cannot go long without its finest ray of sunshine." He smirked up at her as he used her nickname, but it quickly fell when he whispered under his breath. "Trust no one but us. You and Elia are lone suns riding into the dragon's den. A spear does very little against the fire of a dragon."

Deria nodded very solemnly. "I will do all I can for Elia, and when that is done I assure you I will not delay in my return. You will hear from me very soon," and with that, she took the reins of her horse and joined her guards to leave.

Weeding her way through the twenty or so men her brother's had provided, Deria trotted up alongside the Kingsguard exiting the palace gates. "How far is the ride from Dorne to Kings Landing exactly, Uncle Lewyn?"

Lewyn veered his horse on a course directly beside Deria and answered, "Approximately a month, Princess. We'll be taking the backroads, as they are quicker. Unfortunately, there are very few inns, so we'll likely be making camp most nights."

Deria nodded and looked up at the gates as they passed under them and out into the city. "But would it not be safer to stay on the main roads?" She glanced back at the palace and saw her brothers through the gates, thinking heavily on their words. "I don't mean to question you, but don't the backroads pass through the Kingswood?"

"Yes they do," Lewyn agreed with her.

"Is that safe?" Deria remembered several years ago hearing of how Elia and her escort had been attacked there.

The answer did not come from her uncle; instead it came from Ser Barristan, who was a few feet ahead of them, leading the group. Ser Barristan pulled back beside her and addressed the question truly bothering her, "The Kingswood should be perfectly safe, Princess. For a time they were home to a group of bandits, the Kingswood Brotherhood. After your sister, Princess Elia, and her guards were attacked on their way to Kings Landing the king sent out a force against them, including Ser Jaime and I." Barristan gestured to the young knight who was now in front of him. "It's where he was knighted, actually, Princess."

Deria followed Barristan's gesture and smiled to Jaime when he glanced back. It was somewhat reassuring, but she still felt a little uneasy.

They road on in relative silence for most of the day. Occasionally Gwayne or Lewyn would strike up a back and forth about their war stories to break the silence, or someone would ask a question of one of the Martell guards bringing up the back. It wasn't until the sun dipped low in the sky and Ser Barristan, who Deria gathered was in charge of this excursion, deemed they had traveled far enough for one day that the conversation really picked up.

"Are there any inns in these parts?" Barristan asked of Lewyn as they pressed on, trying to decide whether to make camp or not.

Lewyn's expression gave way to the fact that he really had no idea. On the rare occasions he got to come home from Kings Landing he would ride through the night without bothering to stop anywhere. "There is one a short ways up the road, on a side street," Deria spoke first.

Barristan's eyes went from Deria to Lewyn, but Lewyn just shrugged, "I am not aware of it."

"Then lead the way, Princess." Barristan, motioned her to join him near the front.

As the journey had progressed Deria had slowly fallen back in the middle of their group till she was surrounded by the Martell soldiers bringing up the back. "Very well," Deria pushed her horse forward till she trotted along beside Ser Barristan and was close enough to point out the turn in the road. "Just down there, half a mile up the road on the left. It's a little on the seedy side. There are always one or two wanted men lurking about, but they always have a few beds free and plenty of hot food."

Barristan led the way with Deria's direction, and sure enough they found the inn exactly where she said it would be. "Jaime, Lewyn, escort the Princess inside, and see how many rooms are available. We will see the horses to the stable," Barristan ordered.

The three of them dismounted their horses. Deria handed over her reins to a Martell soldier, and before her horse could be led away she grabbed a small spear which had been strapped to her saddle bag. When she turned back Jaime had handed over his reins to Ser Gwayne and was giving the spear an odd look. "I meant it when I said this place was seedy." She addressed his look and followed her uncle into the inn.

Lewyn held the door open for his niece and allowed her passed him into the room, Jaime following close behind the pair with a hand on the hilt of his sword. The second they stepped into the inn they understood what Deria meant by 'seedy'.

The bottom floor functioned as a tavern. In one corner a woman, no doubt a whore, was sat in the lap of a balding older man with a rounded belly who she was no doubt about to fuck right where they sat by the looks of it. Against the back wall was a group of men with hoods sat around a table. They were speaking in hushed tones under their breath, and only one of them looked up as the door opened. The one who did only made eye contact with Jaime for a brief second before he whispered something to his comrades, and the entire table left in a hurry.

A few more people were scattered around the tavern, and one by one as Jaime and Barristan led the Princess passed each table the occupants got up and shuffled towards the stairs or the exit, after noticing the uniform the two men were wearing or the sun stitched onto Deria's dress.

A woman stood behind the long bar that stretched the far wall of the room. She was cleaning a glass when they entered, but when she heard the sound of the many chair legs scraping the floor she looked up. "My Princess!" The woman bowed deeply in Deria's direction, nearly hitting her head on her bar. "How may I be of service?"

"My friends and I will require room for the night, as well as food if you happen to have enough." Deria smiled kindly to the older woman and waved her out of the bow she was in.

The woman stood up with a smile, "Of course, how many rooms will you require?"

"As many as you have available, I am traveling with four members of the Kingsguard and twenty soldiers."

The woman shuffled over to a book resting on the bar and scanned over one of its pages. "I believe I should have fifteen available, but they are not all next to each other. Quite a large party came in only an hour before yourselves."

Deria looked up at her uncle, "Will that do?"

Ser Lewyn nodded his consent, "That will do fine, Princess. I intended to have a guard posted at your door and with the horses for the night anyhow." He shot Jaime a look in silent conversation, and Jaime reached for a money pouch on his hip.

"No, no," The woman saw him reaching for it and waved him away. "This late in the day the rooms would have been empty anyhow. Besides that, the princess will never have to pay for a place in my tavern." She looked at Deria with a fond smile, and Jaime got the feeling that the woman truly loved her rulers, strange as that was in these times.

"Thank you for your kindness, my lady," Deria addressed the woman. It shocked her for a highborn to be referring to her under such a title of respect, even if she had just shown such devotion to the young girl. "Would you please show us to what rooms you have and escort our friends as well when they come in from the stables?"

The woman nodded and walked to a staircase in front of her bar. Deria made to follow her, but Lewyn grabbed her arm. "I'll stay and send back some of your brother's men to guard the stables for the night. You," he addressed Jaime, "guard the princesses chambers tonight. I did not like the look of some of those men. I think I recognized one of them."

Jaime nodded consent to Lewyn and followed as Deria turned again to go after the woman. She led them to the second floor of her inn to a room at the very end of the hall. "I hope the rooms are to your liking Princess. If you have need of anything, I will be down the stairs." She turned and gave a curtsey to the pair before leaving them in the hall.

"Feel free to join me inside, Ser Jaime," Deria opened the door and left it wide for him to follow. "It is quite a while still before I will be going to bed."

Jaime reluctantly looked down the hall before he followed her in and closed the door. Deria was placing the spear she had carried in under the edge of the bed sheets, hidden from view. "Princess, if you don't mind me asking, you have four Kingsguard and twenty soldiers. Why are you carrying around your own spear?"

"Ser Jaime," Deria's tone was almost laughing. "You are here to protect me from everything else on our journey to Kings Landing correct? But what would happen if I needed protection from one of you?"

"Lewyn wouldn't allow any of us to hurt you, Princess, not that we have any intention to," Jaime swore to her.

Deria smiled and sat on the edge of the rickety old bed. "That's probably true, but look around. My uncle is not here now. If I was unarmed and you wished me dead there would not even be a fight between us."

"Very mistrusting, you Martells are," Jaime mused and walked over to a small set of table and chairs in the corner, pulling off his sword and setting it on the table as he took a seat.

Deria smiled and laughed, "Not mistrusting, just cautious."

Jaime watched the young girl as she wandered around the room, seemingly admiring everything about the tiny rundown inn. While she thought on her chambers, Jaime thought on her. He found her very odd, very different than what he expected. He had not been a Kingsguard long, only a year or so now. However in that time he had seen her older sister Elia a good deal around Kings Landing.

Elia was nearly as beautiful as her younger sister, but their personalities were vastly different. Elia had never set foot in a tiltyard in Kings Landing, and he was certain she had not set foot in the one in Dorne either. She was trusting, kind-hearted, and very loving of her husband Rhaegar. On their own, Jaime had always thought those good qualities, but when he compared Elia to her younger sister she seemed rather… well, weak was the only word for it.

Deria seemed just as kind to the people of Dorne as Elia was to Kings Landing. She was very loving towards her older brothers and her uncle and had not once said a cruel word about anyone. Yet while Elia spent most of her days stitching away making clothing for her children or wandering through the castle, Deria spent her days reading in the gardens or practicing in the tiltyard. She was smart, quick witted, but also strong. It was so different from the noblewomen he was used to seeing in court. Jaime found it rather fascinating.

After an hour or so, when Deria was finally acquainted enough with the room, a knock came on the door and a boy, no doubt the son of the woman who had shown them their room, came bustling in carrying two plates of food. "Dinner for Princess Deria and Ser Jaime," The boy muttered nervously and placed the plates down before hurrying out of the room as though he would be set ablaze.

Deria's mouth had opened to thank the boy, but he was gone so quickly that she didn't have the chance. It brought a frown to her features. "I wonder why he acted that way." She spoke the words aloud, even though she clearly meant them for her ears alone.

"Perhaps he was in a rush to deliver meals to the small army your brothers decided would accompany you," Jaime offered with a quiet laugh.

"My brothers do tend to be overprotective," Deria conceded thoughtfully. "Aren't all older brothers protective of their sisters, though?"

Jaime shrugged before relaxing into his chair to eat. "I wouldn't know, Princess. My only sister is my twin, and of the two of us she is the older."

"Well, I would assume it to be true." Deria returned his shrug. "Doran and Oberyn are both quite protective of me, but Doran has always been more protective of Elia than Oberyn was. Oberyn was far more joking and teasing with her."

"My family has never been one to joke," Jaime murmured under his breath.

Deria laughed and rolled her eyes at that statement. "Ah yes. What was it like to be raised as the next Lord of Casterly Rock, the great and powerful Lannisters?"

"Rather a dull affair," Jaime took a rather large bite of his bread. "Lessons, tiltyard, more lessons. Till I was old enough to squire of course, I've barely been home since then. Squire, tourneys, campaigns, knighthood, Kingsguard… I think I've been home twice."

The smile Deria had had before fell from her face. "I can't imagine what that would be like, never seeing my home again."

Jaime gave her an odd look. "It'll happen one day, Princess. Will it not? When your brother finds you a suitable match as your betrothed," It was worded as a question, but it came out as a statement.

Deria gave Jaime a sad smile. "It's possible, but thus far my brother has made no move to marry, or any of us, off. Elia was glad to marry Rhaegar, and Oberyn is much happier with his paramours." The look lingered in her eyes as she dropped them down to look at her food.

Clearly Jaime had hit a sore subject. "Well I wish you the best in that. My own father would've never let me go unbethrothed so long had I not been added to the Kingsguard."

Deria couldn't tell from his voice if he was bitter or not, so she looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes met hers, but they were stony, guarded. "You said added," She noticed, "not joined."

"It's a well-known fact around Kings Landing that Aerys only appointed me to the Kingsguard to anger my father." He was definitely bitter. She could see it now, but not over marriage as she had thought. "After it happened I was so proud of myself… until my father came storming into my chamber that night to tell me he had resigned as Hand and was heading back to the Rock. He raged on for hours about how Aerys betrayed him and robbed him of his heir… I am not here because of my skill like the rest of the guard. I am here because Aerys does not wish me elsewhere."

Deria seemed to forget her food. Her fork dropped back to the plate with a clatter as she sat back in her chair, positively shocked. She knew Lord Tywin had resigned, but she had no idea why until now. "How cruel…" She murmured, more to herself than Jaime.

Jaime returned her sad smile from earlier. "The king is not known for being a kind man…"

"No," Deria cut him off, shaking her head. "That's cruel of the king, but I meant your father." That shocked Jaime into silence. "Obviously it is not his fault the king appointed you, but he could at least have been supportive, especially if it was what you wanted as well."

Jaime chuckled at that and set aside his plate, "With thoughts like that you would not get along with my father."

Deria chuckled and felt her lips tug up into a smirk. "Perhaps I do not wish to get along with your father."

The laugh that fell from Jaime's lips was one of the most sincere he'd had in a long time. "Everyone wishes to get along with my father. He has far too much power for anyone to say otherwise."

"You Lannisters and your power," Deria rolled her. She got to her feet and headed for the bed, stripping down to just her shift and crawling beneath her sheets. "It's a wonder you all don't try and marry your precious gold."


	4. A Sun To Burn It

_**By the way everyone, it is worth noting that this story starts off rated T, but it's going to gradually progress into a rated M story. It'll be a pretty slow build to that, so I'm going to leave it as T for now, but I'll be changing it. I'll try and remember to give you all some warning when I do.**_

**minstorai: The reason she starts that way is I get quite annoyed with stories that force all the layers of a character on me from the beginning. It's like, when I meet a person for the first time they don't immediately sit down and tell me 'okay. I am very sarcastic, but it's only because I use it as a defense mechanism to hide my tragic past from the world, but don't worry. If you do this series of nice things and gain my trust I'll let you in'. That's just not how life works; I find stories really boring if you know everything about the characters personality from the beginning and you just watch a story unfold. I like to learn things as I go along, gradually get to know them like you would a human being… So, that's why she starts off a little bland. ****And Thanks for the Jaime's POV thing. I was worried about that working. My friend is obsessed with Indian/Bollywood style movie and art and literature, so when I think of Deria I tend to rotate between a couple of the actresses I know from her. The one I mainly think of (and I could be wrong about her name and be thinking of a different person because I frequently confuse which actors were in which movies) is a actress name Katrina Kaif.**

* * *

One week. That was how long it took before Jaime again found himself alone with the princess from Dorne.

Ser Barristan had determined that such long travels were making the horses weary and decided it would be best to stop for a time, however brief, and see them tended to. After cutting up Boneway through the Red Mountains, Ser Gwayne had ridden on ahead to ask for lodging of the nearest Lord, which was Lord Edgar of House Wyl. Gwayne had come back to tell them of the lord's consent to assist them, grumbling to Jaime under his breath about how the man had only agreed to help when he mentioned Deria.

"Princess?" Jaime knocked on the door to Deria's chamber. He had been sent to retrieve her for dinner. The Wyls had insisted that Deria and the Kingsguard dine with them; they seemed intent on pleasing the princess. No doubt that was because of their son, Aron, who was her age.

"You may enter Ser Jaime." Her voice called out, having recognized his own.

Jaime opened the door and was already stepping into the room when he froze.

Deria was sat in the center of her chambers soaking in a bath. She hadn't even looked his direction when he entered. Her head stayed tilted, eyes closed with an incredibly relaxed expression lorwning her features. Her dark hair was thrown back over one shoulder, hanging in wavy tendrils that dripped water onto the castle floor. What really stopped Jaime in his tracks though was the sight of one of her long, perfectly tanned legs hanging over the side of the bath, swinging lazy back and forth in the warm air. In that moment, she easily could've passed for some kind of Dornish goddess.

"U-Um," Jaime stuttered over his words. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to look away? Back out of the room and close the door? Address her as though she wasn't wet, naked, and vulnerable lying right before his feet?

One of Deria's eyes opened and glanced at him out of the corner an amused look. "Why is it that the rest of the six kingdoms are so sensitive to something as natural as a woman's body?"

Despite her comment, Deria lowered her leg back into the bath and sat up, picking up a cloth from beside her which Jaime had not noticed when he entered. Not that Jaime noticed much else when he entered.

The young girl lifted the cloth to conceal herself from Jaime's view as she stepped out of the bath and wrapped herself in it, just barely missing stepping on her ever-present spear which had been hidden under her cloth. At this point Jaime had lost all sense of surprise with its presence. He couldn't remember a time since they left Sunspear when it had not been on her person.

"What was it you intended to say, Ser Jaime?" She asked over her shoulder as she ducked behind the dressing screen.

"L-Lord Edgar and Lord Aron have moved dinner out onto the garden and asked me to come escort you." Jaime, finally registering what he'd seen, looked away in belated embarrassment over what he'd seen.

Deria came out from behind the screen in a simple blood red gown with small golden suns patterned into the silky material. "How very generous of him," Her tone sounded almost defeated.

"Indeed," Jaime hesitantly agreed, offering her his arm.

Grabbing her spear as she went, Deria accepted Jaime's lead from the room. Jaime led her through the castle and out towards the gardens in relative silence. His mind was preoccupied with the tone in which she had touted the Wyl's generosity. Clearly she had not considered them to be in any way genuine in their motives. He could only wonder why.

"Deria!" They had not quite reached the gardens when someone called to them.

The young Lord Aron had come rushing out of the palace behind them with a bright smile on his face.

Deria had always been a kind person, at least she liked to think so. She was never rude to her brother's bastards; she never thought herself above any of the maidens at Sunspear; she even helped cook and clean at the palace quite often. But there was a difference between her smile of kindness and simple immaturity, and this lord, this _boy_, she could already tell, was the latter.

"My lord, what a pleasure," Deria politely curtseyed as he approached.

"Have you seen the gardens yet?" Aron asked as he reached her, not even realizing that he had not given her a respectful greeting.

Deria was a little thrown at first by his abruptness, but she was not surprised the boy was so clueless. "No, I haven't yet had the opportunity. I hear that is where your lord father will be serving dinner."

"Yes, father thought you'd like it. You probably will not get the chance to see them in full since you are leaving in the morning, but if you stop by on your way home I can show you all of them." The boy bubbled excitedly and started heading towards the gardens, completely disregarding Jaime's presence on her other side.

"How considerate of you both." Deria's tone was polite, but abrupt.

"Thank you, my lady. My mother is working to expand the gardens while summer still holds. Soon they'll be as grand as anywhere you find in Sunspear, grander even."

Jaime's eyes quickly flickered over to Deria at Aron's passing comment. Her jaw line sharpened a fraction of an inch, but there was no other visible sign of his offense until she spoke. "My proper title is princess, _milord_."

Deria gripped tighter to Jaime's arm which was still guiding her and pulled him further up the path ahead of Aron, breaking their conversation. Her tone had still been polite, but there was a bite to the way she had addressed him, using the term of a commoner, mocking him for his mistake in titles by using the term from someone as far below him as he was below her.

"If I did not know better I'd say you were a Lannister with those claws, princess," Jaime tried to lighten her mood as she distanced them from Aron.

Deria relaxed ever so slightly, but the tension was still not completely gone from her jaw. "Keep your lions, Ser Jaime. Why would I need claws to tear something when I have a sun to burn it and a spear to pierce it?"

* * *

Dinner with Aron and his father was a rather awkward affair. The boy was immature and dim but not to the point that he did not know to be offended. In fact, it seemed to Jaime as though the boy forgot that he was the one who'd started the turn in the conversation.

Not that Deria was letting any of it bother her.

She was more than content to chat with the Wyl's master of arms to her right or Lord Edgar to her left. She'd barely even acknowledged the boys presence when he clambered into the garden a few moments behind her and Jaime, and every time Lord Edgar leaned back and tried to strike up a conversation between the princess and his son on his other side Deria would suddenly find herself incredibly interested in the meal in front of her.

It was almost amusing for the young knight, to watch a girl like Deria, who had been so kind to her guards and everyone else along her journey, so blatantly ignore a boy, a lord at that, over something as silly as a garden. Though, Jaime supposed, if someone had claimed their gardens to be more beautiful than those at Casterly Rock he probably would have turned up their flowers in the night. The size of a family's garden was meant to say a lot about the wealth and power of that family in Westeros.

"Are you excited for your journey to Kings Landing, Princess?" Lord Edgar addressed Deria after she yet again ignored his attempts to start her bonding with his son.

That was a topic that finally interested her. "Most excited, Lord Edgar. I was most fortunate to see my niece on her first nameday when she came to Dorne briefly to meet me and my brothers, but I've yet to see nephew. I also haven't had a chance to see my sister since her marriage, so this trip has been quite long overdue."

"I imagine so," the older man mused to himself. "How long do you plan to stay in Kings Landing?"

Deria hadn't really considered an exact number. She'd just assumed she would stay till Elia was well again. "As long as my company is wanted, I suppose," she gave a rather unladylike shrug in response. It wasn't really her place to gossip about how weak pregnancy had left her sister.

"I doubt there is a time at which court will not want the company of a beauty like yourself," Lord Edgar smiled politely to the girl.

"Most kind of you, Lord Edgar," Deria gave him a courteous nod before returning to her meal. She would be polite, but she was in no mood to have a drawn out discussion with any of the Wyls.

Deria wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what Lord Edgar wanted from her and why he wanted her to talk to his son. He wanted Doran to match her with his son, but Doran would never match her with a man she did not care for. It was the one luxury she was allowed. That's why Wyl needed her to get to know his son.

"Tell me, Sers; are you enjoying Dorne?" Lord Edgar addressed the Kingsguard when Deria did not continue.

"Kings Landing is nice, but it is good to be home," Lewyn smiled. "I've missed it dearly, as has the princess."

Gwayne laughed in response to the question. "Well, the wine is definitely better."

A murmur of agreement went around the table. Dornish wine, while a delicacy in the rest of the kingdoms, was an everyday luxury of Dorne. The only time anyone drank another type of wine was so they could tell just how bad it was by comparison. Deria herself had never tasted wine that wasn't Dornish.

"Ah yes," Lord Edgar raised his goblet to Gwayne. "The gods have truly blessed us. Let the Reach keep its fruits and the West keep its gold, so long as I have a belly full of wine I will not mourn."

Deria bit back a laugh. A man so set on improving his house standings by marrying her to his son surely was not satisfied with just wine, particularly if it was only a belly full. Lord Edgar was a very scrawny man. There was no belly to that man, no muscle either for that matter. Even the young Ser Jaime could probably break him in two with one arm.

Jaime caught Deria's eye from across the table and smiled at the expression on her face. She was failing miserably at hiding her amusement. "I find," Jaime chimed in for the first time since he sat down, eyes not leaving Deria as he addressed Lord Edgar, "that enough gold will buy the wine you do not make and the furs you do not grow."

"Yes," Lord Edgar sneered, "I suppose so… I can't say I've had the pleasure of your name, boy."

Jaime looked away from Deria at the questioning tone in Edgar's voice. "Forgive me, my Lord. Ser Jaime Lannister of Casterly Rock." He introduced himself.

Edgar had been taking a sip of wine, but at Jaime's name he nearly choked it back up. "Should've known. Your hair's as a gold dragon. Is everything that comes off that rock of yours golden?" It was worded as a question, but there was a hint of resentment in his tone.

"Not all, my lord, but most things. I suppose it's a force of habit."

"So, Princess," Jaime had a smug smirk on his face as he accompanied her back to her chambers for the night, "tell me, has your brother already made the betrothal to Lord Aron, or is it still in the works?"

The expression on Deria's face gave the impression she was resisting slapping him. "My sister's marriage to the crown prince has done all of the work necessary work to 'further the family name' and afforded me and my brothers the opportunity to marry by choice. While Doran would prefer to arrange a marriage for me to another lord or prince, he has agreed that I will be given the choice. That is why Lord Edgar is trying so desperately to woo me in favor of his son."

"Has it worked?" Jaime chuckled.

Deria rolled her eyes, "Most certainly not. There are few things I absolutely disdain in a man, but one of them is immaturity."

"What are the others?" Jaime asked, curiously.

Deria's eyes glazed over for a moment as she thought over his question. "Laziness, drunkenness, … and a lack of honor."

Jaime raised an eyebrow. "That was a relatively short list, even for one thought up as you spoke. Surely there is something else. I can think of plenty other unwanted traits."

"Like what?"

"Weakness," Jaime said as though it was obvious.

Deria chuckled. "Perhaps weakness of mind, but a weak body is not always preventable. Why judge a man for something he has no say over?"

Jaime looked down at her in shock. Since his mother's death the only woman who'd really impacted Jaime was his sister Cersei. All he'd known about woman for some time now had come from her, and if there was one thing he knew about his sister it was that she despised weakness. She probably would have berated Deria for even suggesting that weakness was acceptable under any circumstances.

As Jaime left her at her chamber door that night he was confused. This woman had been as kind hearted to her guards and commoners as she was to her peers, and yet at the same time she was mistrusting enough of everyone to carry a spear with her everywhere. Every time he thought he'd unraveled the mystery she added another layer.

His feet took him to his destination without much thought while his mind wondered over the princess in his charge. Every layer seemed tougher and thicker than the last, and he wondered how many he'd made it through already. It only took him a moment to realize that he'd only gone through one. Her polite, noblewoman façade had faded away within the first few hours of him knowing her, but since then he'd been subject to the inviting yet blunt personality that embodied the young girl as he confronted her in the tiltyard. The more important question still hung in the air, however. How many were left?

"Finished tucking the little girl into her bed?"

Jaime jolted from his thoughts and realized he was in the yard outside of the barracks currently housing the Kingsguard and Martell soldiers. Ser Gwayne was leaning up against one of the barracks walls with a smirk on his face, aimlessly twirling the sword in his hand.

"I doubt the princess wishes to be 'tucked in'." Jaime replied.

Ser Gwayne laughed. "Certainly not by the rest of us, but perhaps by her golden haired knight in shining armor." Gwayne used his sword to point at Jaime. "She's been closer to you than her own uncle on this ride to Kings Landing."

"He left to join the Kingsguard before she was born. It's no surprise the aren't close," the younger knight defended himself.

"Yes," Gwayne relented, "but this is different. You know it; that is why you defend yourself now… Jaime, the vows are more like guidelines. We've all bent the rules once or twice, especially one," Gwayne glanced to Jaime's trousers, "particular rule. No one's going to judge you as long as you admit to it before it's discovered by other means." Gwayne could see Jaime's face reddening and felt a triumphant smirk for breaking the boy's usual manner. "Besides, the girl's Dornish. It's not like her maidenhood matters to her anyway. They're all whores south of the Red Mountains."

That broke him. Jaime drew his sword in a flash before Gwayne could raise his and lurched forward, his left hand pinning the knight's sword to his side while his right pressed his own to Gwayne's throat, forcing him back against the wall.

Gwayne's head slammed back against the stone wall with such a force that it dazed him for a moment, and his sword fell from his grip, leaving him completely at the mercy of the man he'd just insulted.

"If you ever imply a thing like that again," Jaime leaned in to Gwayne's ear and spoke under his breath, "I will call for Prince Rhaegar to ride to Sunspear then tie you to my horse's saddle and force you to walk all the way back to House Martell barefoot across the Dornish desert before I throw you at the feet of Oberyn and Rhaegar and tell them exactly what you think of the Dornish, Oberyn's sisters, and Rhaegar's wife. Then, after Rhaegar banishes you from the Kingsguard, you'll be put to trial by combat against the pair of them for your treasonous words against one of the kingdoms, and I'll smile as I watch the pair of them run you through with sword and spear before I deliver your body back to your Lord father piece by piece."

Jaime took the second in which Gwayne was stunned by his words to grab the older knight by his shoulders and slam him back against the wall, dealing a rather serious blow to the man's spine and head. Gwayne crumpled and let out a yell of pain which Jaime ignored as he wandered back to his room in the barracks.


	5. Lucky Guess

_**Real quickly, I'm aware that Gwayne is dead by the point in time at which this story takes place, but as far as I know his replacement wasn't named during the series, maybe I'm wrong but I genuinely don't remember who replaced him, and I needed a character to be the sort of bully of the Kingsguard. **_

**Minstorai: Thank you. I'm glad you like it! There's kind of a story for the spear by the tub and why she carries it everywhere. I used to sit in on a friend's psychology class and got in a discussion with the professor once about the various layers of a person's personality, and he had a theory that everyone has four layers to their personality. There's layer one: where a person is comfortable, but not necessarily in control (which is how Deria felt in Sunspear). Layer two: where a person is not necessarily comfortable, but is in control (Deria on the road to Kings Landing). Layer three: where a person is neither comfortable nor in control (Deria once she gets to Kings Landing). Layer four: when a person is both comfortable and in control (yet to be revealed location). So she was comfortable in Sunspear, trusted her brothers with control, but now she may be in control, but she's uncomfortable soooo… SPEARS! **

**CherryBlossoms016: I am trying to stay sort of true to the original, while also adapting Deria's character and playing out her own storyline. Deria isn't drastically changing any of the major plot points (At least, she won't be changing any of the major pre-series plot points... okay, that's a lie. She'll be changing one major point. But only one. And it's not the one you mentioned. Once I start delving into the actual series I'm going to deviate more than I am now). That said about the plot, she'll be drastically changing specific characters mainly the ones that she is immediately involved with during the story (the four Lannisters, Oberyn Martell, and Ser Barristan Selmy- to some extent).**

* * *

"Good morning, Ser Jaime," Deria greeted the young knight with a smirking expression that made Jaime feel as though she knew something he did not.

Jaime nodded respectfully to her as she approached the stables but made no move to point out the expression she wore. "Good morning, Princess. How was your night?"

"It was fine, I suppose. It was nice to sleep in a bed again, even if it was only briefly." Deria entered the horse stall next to Jaime, home to the black mare she had been riding on this journey. "And how was your night, Ser Jaime?" She was meant to be brushing down her horse. At least, that had been her purpose for coming out her until she saw Jaime; she been needing to speak with him. Now was as good a time as any.

Jaime resumed cleaning his own horse but kept his eyes up on her, a rather wary look in them as he wondered what she wanted with that smirk. "Yes, it was quite nice to have a bed again, I suppose," he agreed. "We only have a few more weeks to endure before we reach Kings Landing, though. I'm sure you'll have quite a grand bed in the palace. I imagine your sister will spare no expense for your arrival."

"I'm anxious to see her again." Deria smiled brightly at the new topic, "Anxious to see how she's handling Kings Landing. I don't believe I could handle living in a place like that. It's beautiful, but too many politics for my taste."

Jaime chuckled and nodded in agreement, "I feel the same… Though I can assure you your sister handles the politics well, better than most of us could have hoped. You should be proud."

"I am," Deria agreed with a nod, finally giving her attention to her horse as she'd planned. "I have many reasons to be proud of my siblings. Doran is one of the brightest minds in Westeros, Oberyn one of the best fighters, and Elia… Well, she is the princess."

Jaime could hear just a hint of something more than pride in her voice when she spoke of her sister. "You don't sound as proud of your sister as you claim to be."

Deria paused and looked up over the half-wall into the next stall over, observing Jaime carefully. She wasn't sure if she could trust him with her true opinions just yet… Then again, if she didn't try it once how would she know for next time? "Tell me, what do you see when you look at me?" She asked him, dropping her brush to the floor and crossing her arms over her chest.

Jaime froze, back to the princess. He didn't know what to say. Was he supposed to speak of her beauty? Her clothing? Her features? The question confused him to no end.

"It's all right. You don't need to answer." Deria chuckled. Jaime turned, abandoning his cleaning to see where this was going. "When people speak of Doran they speak of the hours he spent reading, studying. They speak of his expertise in history, strategy, and politics. When people speak of Oberyn they speak of the hours he slaved away in the tiltyard. They speak of expertise in every weapon man has ever known: sword, spear, bow, poison, axe, hammer. And when they look at me they say I fall somewhere between the two… But what do they say of Elia?"

Jaime couldn't tell where this was going. There had been a gentle tone to her voice at the beginning, but when she mentioned her sister's name it came close to a tone of disgust.

Deria continued, not noticing Jaime's hesitation, "Every time people speak of my sister they speak of her beauty, her children, her wealth, how she is so gentle, trusting, kind-hearted. They speak of her body and her personality." Deria propped her elbows against the ledge and looked Jaime directly in the eye. "Every person who has ever lived has had a body and a personality. It is something we are all born with. Even more than that, her wealth and children everyone so speak of were given to her through marriage."

Deria pushed away from the wall and stepped out of her horse's stall, circling till she stood directly in front of his own. "Everything they praise her for was given to her. Her personality and body are part of her very life given to her by our parents, and Rhaegar gave her wealth and children with their marriage. She was given everything, yet people praise my sister for these things just as much as they praise my brothers and I for the rest.

"I watched my brother Doran slave over books in a library until his spine was hunched and his eyes could no longer stand to be opened. I watched Oberyn fight till his chest was littered with scars, and his hands bled from spinning his swords and spears. I stood beside them, reading along over Doran's shoulder and copying Oberyn's every swing. What did Elia do while we slaved away for everything? Nothing." Deria was on her toes now, practically spitting on her sister's name with every word, "All of her beauty, all of her wealth, all of the power that came with the combination of the two, and she used none of it. She worked for nothing. She trained for nothing.

"Tell me, Ser Jaime." Deria finally addressed him directly. "I love my sister dearly, more than life itself, but why should I praise her for her very existence when my brothers and I work ourselves to the bone to earn the same praise she receives for sitting in a window watching us work?"

Jaime had no answer for that. He had no answer for any of this. He couldn't very well disagree with her; he knew the pains she was speaking of. He too had trained till his chest scarred, fought till his body ached, swung a sword till his hands bled, only to turn and watch his father praise Cersei for bothering stepping foot outside the castle. The longer he thought on it the more he agreed. He'd never felt the same resentment that Deria was feeling, but that had only been because he was not yet wise enough to realize he should be offended, until Deria had opened his eyes, that is.

Deria took a deep breath, trying to calm down her repressed emotions. "None of this was the reason I came down here."

"To clean your horse?" Jaime nodded in the direction of the other stall, obliviously.

Deria chuckled and shook her head, "Not quite, Ser Jaime. I came for my horse, but I do wish to speak to you."

That raised Jaime's brow. "What about?"

"It's been mentioned to me by one of my soldiers that you and Ser Gwayne had an argument last night. He didn't catch all the words, but he seemed to think that I was the topic of discussion," Deria explained.

Reluctantly turning his attention back to the horse, Jaime made a huge pretense of brushing the creature. "That may have happened."

"Might I ask what the fight was over?"

Jaime sighed and thought it over. If Deria told the princess what Gwayne said then surely his threat to the knight would come to passed when word got to Rhaegar. Not that he greatly cared for the knight, but it seemed premature to execute the man just yet… Then again, she had just trusted him with a rather dangerous opinion of her own just moments ago. "Ser Gwayne seemed to believe that I was walking you to your room last night to take your maidenhood. When I tried to deny it, he attempted to assure me that your maidenhood would not matter so much in Dorne. He said that all women south of the mountains were whores."

"And what did you say?" Deria asked in a deceptively calm tone.

Rather bluntly, Jaime admitted, "I threatened to send word to Rhaegar to meet me in Sunspear and make Gwayne walk barefoot across the desert back to House Martell and face your brother, Oberyn's, and Prince Rhaegar's… 'opinions' on such a thing."

"Thank you," was all she said as she headed for the door.

Jaime looked at her retreating back and noticed something rather odd, "Princess!" He called out, making the girl come to a stop in the doorway. "What happened to your spear?"

The princess glanced back over her shoulder and let out a sharp laugh. "If you think I am unarmed simply because you do not see my weapon than it is you who is the fool, not Elia." With that she swept from the room.

* * *

A short while later, after Jaime had finished cleaning his own horse and taken it upon himself to finish the job Deria started, he wandered his way into the Great Hall where most of the house was just beginning to break their fast. Lord Edgar Wyl occupied the center of the high table with his family all seated in line to his left. Immediately to his right was Princess Deria, sipping a glass of wine and casually picking at a slice of bread. Beside Deria was her uncle Lewyn, then Barristan Selmy, beside whom there were two seats which Jaime could only assume were for himself and Gwayne.

Jaime strolled through the hall to the table and took the place next to Ser Barristan. "Where were you?" Barristan asked as Jaime got seated.

"Woke up early and went down to clean my horse," Jaime explained before thanking the handmaiden who rushed forward to fill his cup with wine.

Before the conversation could go further shouting and screeching could be heard from the hall outside, slowly drawing the attention of everyone in the room as it grew louder.

The Wyl guards around the entrances stood a little sharper. The nobles and castle-hands at the lower tables fell into silence. At the far end of the hall the Martell soldiers were searching for their weapons or gripping the hilts of their swords. The Wyl family tensed along the top table, anticipating what could possibly be causing such screams in the hall but refusing to move an inch. Deria was the only one unphased, Jaime noticed as he readied himself to protect the girl in his charge. She continued eating what little was left of her meal as though she heard nothing.

Barristan was the first one to his feet as the doors at the end of the hall opened to a stream of extended Wyl relatives, other house guests, and handmaidens rushed into the hall with looks of disgust, clearly running from whatever caused their expressions. Only the second Barristan got to his feet and saw what was coming through the crowds his own face etched in disgust, and he sunk back into his seat.

It was then that Jaime saw him. Ser Gwayne Gaunt was standing in the doorway behind the rush of the crowd, face bright red with embarrassment, eyes frantically searching for help, and his body… his body stark naked apart from a small wash rag which he was desperately clutching between his legs in a poor attempt at hiding his 'bits.'

The entire hall looked on with a mixture of shock, disgust, and shame. They had all been present to see him riding into Wyl. They all knew this man, this naked man with a crazed look in his eye, was a member of the Kingsguard charged with protecting their princess. A few snickers followed after him as Gwayne scampered up the hall towards the high table, one hand on the cloth and the other trying to cover his backside, but before he could reach the lord and lady of Wyl two guards rather awkwardly stepped in front of him, impeding his process. Gwayne looked like a mad man who had just stumbled out of a whorehouse.

That's when realization hit Ser Jaime. His eyes flashed over to where Deria sat. The rest of the hall looked on with negative emotions, but even from here he could see the amusement glinting in the young girl's eyes, a small window of emotion from behind the mask of shock she'd painted on her face moments ago. She'd done this.

"S-Ser Gwayne, what on earth has possessed you to come to my Great Hall in such attire!" Lord Edgar gasped.

Gwayne glared as a few more peals of laughter came from the onlookers. "I was in the bathhouse before I came to break fast, but when I stepped from my bath I found all of my armor and clothes gone. The only scrap of cloth left was this rag!"

Deria's lips broke into a sneer. Clearly she had missed something. She would have to remember to double check next time. "So you thought you would storm into the Great Hall in front of the lord and lady who have provided you shelter for the night and do what exactly?" Lewyn questioned him.

"Someone has s-stolen my armor!" The laughter behind Gwayne was slowly building now as the shock faded away. "I want it found at once!"

"We all want it found at once, I can assure you that," Deria chimed in with a mocking tone, which started the loudest chorus of laughter yet from the onlookers.

Gwayne turned red from hairline to collar, shuffling his feet nervously and staring at the floor. "Of course, princess. I only meant that it is not where I left it. At the least someone has moved it."

"I will go search the bathhouses with Ser Gwayne, my lord." Barristan addressed Edgar, getting to his feet and giving a respectful bow. "I am deeply sorry for the discourtesy caused by one of my men; he will be dealt with."

Barristan made to step down from the table, but Deria shot to her feet. "Ser Barristan, you've barely sat for your meal. Please, sit. I've finished. I'll help Ser Gwayne find his things." She smiled to Ser Barristan reassuringly and made her way down from the table.

"Princess, I…" Barristan tried to protest.

"Really," Deria shook her head, "It is fine. Enjoy your meal." Deria curtseyed to Lord Wyl before she turned for the door, Ser Gwayne shuffling along behind her to another chorus of giggles.

"Perhaps I should accompany them." Jaime mumbled under his breath to Ser Barristan. "I wasn't of a mind to eat anyway, and someone needs to help them."

Ser Barristan seemed a little shaken by the whole affair. He barely managed to give Jaime his nod of approval before the younger knight was out of his seat and jogging down the hall after Deria and Gwayne.

"Princess," Jaime caught up to them just before they could enter the courtyard to head to the bathhouse.

Deria smiled back at Jaime and gave him a polite nod, "Come to join our search?" She asked, her tone that of a perfectly proper noble.

Jaime took off his white cloak from his shoulders and handed it over to Gwayne to cover himself with. "Indeed, I thought it wrong to allow a princess to search alone for a knight's missing armor." Jaime managed to place himself between Deria and Gwayne as they walked, not that that was very hard considering the amount of space between the two.

Gwayne hurriedly wrapped himself in Jaime's cloak and dropped the rag to the dirt. "That was most kind of you to help, Princess." He tried to sound dignified, but in his current state it just sounded petty. "I am deeply sorry for my abhorrent actions. I don't know what came over me; it was quite disgraceful."

Deria snorted derisively, "Not in Dorne, though, I imagine?" That was the first arrow loosed in the battle. Jaime could feel it.

"I beg your pardon, Princess?" Gwayne asked, confused.

"Nothing, Ser Gwayne, merely stating an observation of how the rest of the kingdoms perceive us." Deria rolled her eyes in response. "I mean after all, Dornishmen do not blame sons for the sins of their fathers. Dornishmen don't throw babies in the streets to die simply because their parents were unmarried. Dornishmen are open with their wives about all passions instead of sneaking around behind their backs, betraying their trust. Dornishmen treat their wives and children as their equals rather than their property. How incredibly," Deria opened the door to the bathhouse, stepping in ahead of the two knights, "uncivilized we are in Dorne."

Jaime let Gwayne through first, following in behind the other two. He needed to keep an eye on this situation. He doubted Deria would do anything more than she already had, but if Gwayne got offended or violent he needed to see it coming.

"Princess, I never meant to imply you were uncivilized." Gwayne spoke cautiously.

"Well then!" Deria clapped her hands together and looked back at him over her shoulder with a seductive smile. "What good news. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to ask you to warm my bed tonight."

"Princess, I don't…"

Gwayne didn't get to finish before Deria continued. "Then again, why bed an honorable man from the Crownlands when I could have five Dornishmen for no cost at all? I'm still in Dorne. I should indulge while I still have the chance! There will always be plenty of time in Kings Landing to see how you boys from the Crownlands measure up!" There was so much hate, so much condescension to her voice that any retort or action Gwayne usually would've taken for being spoken to in such a way was cut down immediately by her tone.

While she had been speaking, Deria had led them through the bathhouse's to a thin doorway, what looked to be nothing more than a closet. The young princess came to a stop in front of the door, gripping its handle before turning to examine Gwayne's expression. By now even the thick skulled older knight could tell where she was going with her train of thought, and there was a cross between regret, remorse, and shame haunting his features. The look itself seemed to satisfy whatever Deria was searching for because she stepped aside and flung the door open.

A loud clatter echoed through the empty building as Ser Gwayne's armor came crashing to the floor with the force of how tightly it had been packed into the small closet. "Not bad for a Dornish whore," Deria snapped rather cold-heartedly. "What a coincidence that it was the first door we checked, right Ser Gwayne?" Mocking and Warning etched into the girl's every word. Deria turned and walked towards the door, leaving the two knights to process what had just happened. As she left, she glanced back over her shoulder with a cheery smile. "Lucky guess, I suppose!"


	6. A Spear Behind A Ray Of Sun

_**Thank you so much to everyone who's been reviewing. It means a lot that you guys take the time to give me some genuine feedback to this story. Special thanks to the people who commented on the last chapter: Alice, minstorai, Bella-swan11, and Connie Weasley.**_

* * *

"Storm's End," Deria sighed as she looked up at the stronghold. "Strong, but horrifyingly boring, wouldn't you agree, Ser Barristan?"

"The castle certainly does not hold the same beauty as the palaces in Dorne, Princess; though there is a great deal of practicality to it due to its location," Barristan passively agreed with her.

Up until now they had been taking back roads through Dorne and the southern stormlands, but two days ago Ser Barristan had turned them east towards Storm's End in hopes of riding along the kingsroad. The knight had sent a letter ahead to Lord Robert while they were still in Wyl, informing him of their passage and asking if they would be permitted to stop and rest their horses for a night. Ser Barristan had assured Deria that the young lord had seemed receptive of the idea of housing the princess of Dorne.

Ser Barristan had burned the letter before Deria could read it. Receptive would not have been Barristan's best description of the contents of the letter. By then whispers of Deria's journey were spreading through the south. People spoke of her fiery personality and the beauty to match. Lord Robert had insisted that Ser Barristan confirm the rumors before he opened his doors to the girl. He'd seemed quite… there was no word for it other than persistent.

"No castle or keep could hold a candle to a palace." Deria noted in an off-handed tone. The soldiers ahead of Deria rode through the open gates and lined the short path through the courtyard to the central keep. There at the steps stood the young Lord Robert Baratheon.

Lord Robert wasn't an unattractive man. Sure, she had seen better, much better in fact, but she supposed he was above average. He was quite a burly, gruff looking man with a height that Deria knew would tower over her own when she stepped down. There was nothing particularly cruel looking about him, but the way his eyes had shot up and roamed over her body as she rode into the courtyard bothered her.

Deria dismounted from her horse with the Kingsguard at her side and handed the reins back to one of her soldiers. "Thank you," she nodded to the small group of Dornishmen who took their horses towards the stable.

Turning her attention back to the nobles in front of her, she took hold of Ser Barristan's arm and followed him up to the group of Baratheons waiting to welcome her. "Lord Robert, it's an honor." Deria gave a polite curtsey but did not let go of Barristan. She didn't like the way the lord was eyeing her.

"The pleasure is mine, Lady Deria." Robert chuckled and gave a rather short bow, rather careless in showing the younger girl the respect her status commanded.

Deria's jaw tightened as her teeth ground together, biting back her rude retort in exchange for a more polite one. "It's Princess Deria. We Martells have a different title in Dorne, Lord Baratheon." She was really trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but the look on his face said that he'd known already what her title is. Why he felt amused misaddressing her was beyond Deria. Why any man would mock a woman this way was beyond her… Then again, this was not Dorne, and he was not Dornish.

"My apologies then, Princess Deria," Robert smirked, taking her hand from her side without her permission and pressing a rather sloppy kiss to it. "The Dornish are not common in these parts. Can't say I'm familiar with your customs." He dropped her hand carelessly and clapped the shoulder of an equally tall, equally gruff looking man beside him. "Might I introduce my brother, Stannis Baratheon."

Stannis gave Deria a much more respectable bow while she curtseyed to him. "My princess," He spoke in a deep, gravelly voice that made him sound much older than his brother. His eyes were serious, lacking all of the jolliness that his brother's held. Not necessarily a bad thing in Deria's eyes considering the way Robert was acting.

"And this young one," He waved a hand to a little boy standing beside him, "is my youngest brother, Renly."

The little boy tripped on the step when he tried to bow, but Deria was down on her knees quickly and caught the boy's shoulder before he could fall. "Be careful there, Lord Renly." She smiled down at the boy, patting his arm and helping him back up beside his brother.

"Yes, Princess," the little lord mumbled to himself, his cheeks turning a bright red.

"It's an honor to meet you all," Deria returned to her usual stance. "Thank you for your assistance; your generosity is greatly appreciated by myself and the Kingsguard." She stepped back slightly till she was a half pace behind the guard. "Might I introduce Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Jaime Lannister, Ser Gwayne Gaunt, and my uncle, Ser Lewyn Martell." The men all took their bows which were returned by the two elder lords.

"Lannisters," Robert eyed over Jaime. "That's another thing we don't get a lot of here."

Jaime raised an eyebrow, a small smirk coming to his lips. "Perhaps, though I doubt I would refer to the Princess and her people as 'things', Lord Baratheon." He said it in a sickeningly respectful tone, far more kind and evasive than the blunt correction Deria had used herself. Yet the effect was far more immediate.

"I meant to imply no such thing, Lannister." Robert glared at the youngest knight. "The Princess knows that."

"It's fine, Lord Robert," Deria drew his attention before the situation escalated. She was a little surprised by Jaime's comment. She'd heard plenty of stories about the Lannisters reputation for that sort of thing, but she'd yet to see Jaime demonstrate it... She wasn't sure if she disliked it or not, just yet. "We went through a rather trying ordeal at our last stop, and we're all a little touchy still," the eyes of Deria and the Kingsguard all quickly flashed to Gwayne. "We could all use a rest."

"Then by all means," Robert stepped aside with a wide smile, "feel free to indulge in our humble home." 

* * *

When Robert Baratheon had said humble he meant it. It's not that Deria hated Storm's End. It's just that she had been there half a day and she was already dying to leave… Okay, she hated it.

The castle wasn't really a castle. It was a singular, large keep with four walls built around the edge. There was nothing unique or special about the place. It gave off the vibe of a military camp more than a noble residence. Everything was run for order and efficiency. There were no gardens. The village outside was meager at best and did not offer even the simplest amenities. Deria had attempted to go to the tiltyard but had been 'politely' turned away by a Baratheon guard who suggested she go speak with some of the gossipy handmaidens.

"Not what you were expecting?" Jaime approached Deria as she walked away from the tiltyard.

"No," Deria ground her teeth together, trying to control her irritation, "unfortunately this is exactly what I expected. Closed minded northern men who think themselves better than me purely because they have a cock between their legs." Her voice had almost been a shout, but she'd managed to rein it in at the last second when she saw Stannis walking through the yard behind Jaime.

Jaime chuckled. This girl would be her own undoing if that was her idea of calm. "We're not Northerners, but either way I assure you that we do not all think that way of you."

"You're all Northerners to me," She waved away his first statement. "Regardless of individual opinions of common people, the people in power through the rest of Westeros are men like that," Deria thumbed towards the guard who'd shunned her. "Everyone who could do something thinks the same as him."

Jaime smiled, genuinely smiled, down at her. "I have power. I have a good deal of it, too. I'm a member of the Kingsguard and son of the Lord of Casterly Rock." His hand reached out to brush against the back of hers in encouragement, though only for a moment. "I'm a knight, a man, a lord, and your elder, yet you beat me in the tiltyards back in Dorne. You earned my respect. I do not think of you the way he, or any of his men, do. I assure you that."

Deria's returning smile raised a thought into Jaime's head. Were they friends? They weren't exactly close. He still barely knew the girl. Even so they talked a good deal of the time; he found himself being kind to her out of more than just his usual respect. He'd defended her and her people in front of Gwayne, and she'd given him this new outlook on things. Jaime would never dare tell her that he'd been like that guard before he knew her, but inside he recognized that his former opinion, the same as the guard's, had changed. She'd changed him. A thing like women fighting seemed like a drop in the ocean when it came to opinions, but it was still something. Any change would be a remarkable thing. Jaime was generally not a compromising man.

"Thank you, Jaime." Deria's smile was accompanied by a nod in respect as she moved to head back into the keep.

"Oh no, Princess," Jaime grabbed her arm and wheeled her back around. "Any woman who would stand up the way you stood up to Gwayne does not give in because of a simple, low-ranking guard." Jaime placed her hand on his arm and walked a very confused Deria over to the tiltyard. "Besides, I wish to see the Lord Baratheon's men bested by someone they would under estimate so."

Deria gave a hearty laugh once she realized where he was taking this. "Very well Ser Jaime, but I will need to be given a spear. Mine is still on my horse."

"Do you mean to say the Dornish princess is unarmed?" Jaime let out a mocking gasp.

Deria rolled her eyes at his teasing tone. "No, I'm merely pointing that I am not armed by spear at the moment."

He would've thought she was bluffing had he never met her brother. However having met Oberyn he got the feeling the girl never went anywhere unarmed. They seemed like a fighting family. "One of these days you're going to trust people," Jaime commented on the side. The guard who'd sent her away earlier was walking towards them, but he waved the man away. Now was not the time or place for an argument on culture in the kingdoms.

"I do trust people," She defended. "I trust my family."

"Family is a small group to trust." Jaime pointed out.

"It's enough," Deria countered. "And some people don't even have that."

Jaime was about to chime in with the thought that he didn't trust family, his father anyway, but this seemed a bad time. The tiltyard was nearly full as they walked out, but everyone was crowded around the sides watching the only two people fighting. Lord Robert Baratheon was swinging a mighty sword at Ser Lewyn, who was side stepping away from the blows rather than confronting the powerful hits by the other warrior.

"You Dornish are a slippery bunch," Robert joked with a booming laugh as Lewyn managed to roll out of the way of a heavy downward blow.

Lewyn smirked as the crowd laughed at his 'predicament'. Every time he managed to avoid another blow the crowd would collectively gasp at how close he was to losing. "It's in our nature, my lord." He parried Robert's next thrust with ease. "After all, no man can catch a ray of sun as it shines through the air."

Deria was not worried for her uncle in the slightest and watched on in amusement as the crowd cheered for Robert. Robert certainly was a great warrior, but not out of his skill so much as his brute strength. His feet placed heavy, sure steps that were easy to predict, and while there was a lot of power behind each of his blows they were still quite slow, hard to block out of sheer force but incredibly easy to avoid.

Lewyn was dancing around the younger man on light feet, never staying still for longer than a few moments. He didn't weaken himself by trying to block every one of Robert's blows, only the ones he couldn't get away from. His blows to Robert were quick, not as strong but far more frequent. He was almost double Robert's age, yet he was already wearing out the young man.

By now they were only delaying the inevitable. Robert was panting for every breath, and Lewyn had barely broken a sweat. Robert's blows were slower every time and gradually lost the power the original ones had. It was then that Lewyn made his move. He countered one of Robert's weaker blows and charged forward, glancing his blows left and right while Robert struggled to block him with the large, somewhat unwieldy sword. Lewyn took a step to the left and swung down, catching Robert's sword on the hilt and twisting till it fell from Robert's grasp.

The crowd clapped, but no one cheered, not the way they had for Robert's powerful blows. It was a combination of shock and loyalty to their young lord. The battle had been relatively long, yet the end had been so swift, precise. Lewyn was clearly the more calculated of the two fighters.

Deria's smile was one in the tiltyard as she clapped along for Lewyn's victory. Her eyes caught her uncles as he bent down and retrieved Robert's sword for him. The knight sent his niece an encouraging smile and excused himself from Robert's company. "I take it your brother has shared with you his passion for the art of swordplay?" Lewyn asked, approaching her and Ser Jaime.

"Not quite," Deria laughed. "I much prefer a spear to a sword. I've never had the care to learn to wield anything so cumbersome," Her eyes glanced to the sword on Lewyn's hip as if to make her point.

"True," Lewyn agreed, "spears are the lighter option. I suppose they suit your frame quite well."

"By the gods," A loud voice boomed behind Lewyn, interrupting their conversation. "Who let you out here, Princess?" It was Lord Robert. He'd finally collected himself enough to see where his former opponent had gone.

Jaime held in a chuckle. Deria had clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth together as she usually did when she needed to hold her tongue. The funny thing was that Lewyn, keeping his back to Robert, had done the exact same. Clearly they both shared in their aversion to the northern feminine culture.

"Simply came down to admire your tiltyard, my lord," Deria addressed him as Lewyn stepped aside, out of the way of the approaching Baratheon.

"Tiltyards are no place for a woman," Lord Baratheon countered. He looked over his shoulder and waved over a guard, clearly wishing someone to escort her away.

Deria couldn't do it. She'd tried. She'd really tried, but the mistaken titles and the guard earlier had done nothing to help her patience. "Tell me, my lord," she drew Robert's attention. "Why is it that you northern kingdoms claim to have so much more respect for your women when you insist on treating them like pathetic, weak little creatures who don't have a mind for themselves and are only good for birthing children?"

"Deria," Lewyn spoke in a warning tone, unsure how Robert would react to this.

"No, Lewyn," She waved off his concern, stepping closer to the lord, who was currently shocked into silence. "I wish to hear his answer. I've met many lords from the other six kingdoms in my time. They all come to Dorne asking for my hand for themselves or their sons, but they never ask me. Always Doran. They claim to know love and respect for women yet they, like the Lord Baratheon here, insist on walking over us like we don't exist for any other purpose than warming their beds."

The entire tiltyard was quiet. The soldiers had all stopped. The talking had ceased. No one made any movement. The only person who dared break the frozen tension was Jaime, but only to move his hand to the hilt of his sword. Baratheons were famous for their fury, and he was not going to allow the princess to fall prey to a tantrum from Lord Robert.

"You," Lord Robert spoke for the first time, expression still blank. "You speak to me the way you would speak to a commoner."

Everyone else in the yard tensed, expecting where this was going. Everyone else except Deria. Her face stayed set in the same ferocious expression of defiance. She was not going to cower in fear with the rest of the Stormlands. She was not some pathetic child, and she would stand for no man, lord or not, treating her as though she was. She was Princess Deria Martell of Dorne, and she would be given the respect she deserved. Or else.

A long pause filled the air before Robert Baratheon let out the loudest, deepest laugh Deria had ever heard in her life. It practically echoed off the surrounding walls back down to them. It shook the very ground beneath her feet. "You Martells really are a spear hiding behind a ray of sun, aren't you? That pretty face of yours is hiding a fighting spirit." Robert clapped a hand down onto the young girl's shoulders and left her to stand between Jaime and Lewyn, running off into the tiltyard to find his next battle.

"A spear hiding behind a ray of sun," Lewyn mused over the Lord's words. "Quite fitting, I must agree."

"Really?" Deria shook off her surprise at Lord Robert's response and looked up at her uncle.

Lewyn nodded with a wide smile. "Your face is as beautiful as a ray of sun, and that tongue of yours is just as sharp as any of your spears."


	7. Do You Concede?

**_Sorry this took so long, haven't had time to write much. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for all the reviews!_**

**minstorai- Yes, well I think that Jaime is sort of approaching her with the knowledge that he can't have her, being in the Kingsguard. It's kind of leaving him in denial about his feelings.**

**Pluv143000- I have a plot for this story all the way to the end. It goes through Robert's Rebellion and well into the series itself. I'm like busting at the thought of getting into the series, especially Oberyn. I cannot get enough of Oberyn.**

* * *

"Most impressive, Princess," Jaime congratulated the young girl with a respectful bow.

Deria gave a mocking curtsey in response and set aside her spear. "Why thank you, Ser Jaime; I am most grateful for your compliment."

Jaime chuckled and reached out for Deria's hand, kissing the back of it in what would have been a respectful manner had they both not been so joking for the last few hours. They'd been out for quite a while already, and it was not yet midmorning. "Perhaps we should rest," Jaime suggested, "we will be leaving nearer midday for King's Landing." He was really more worried about one of Robert's guards coming down to find them in the tiltyard than anything else.

Deria smiled rather smugly, "Worried I'll best you again?" Jaime had brought her down to the tiltyard immediately after she broke fast to train. That was the word he'd used at least. In actuality, Deria had ended up showing him more moves with a spear for most of the time.

"I worry about many things, Princess, but that is not one of them." Jaime assured her with a smirk. He held out his arm to her, ready to escort her back. "You can very easily best me with a spear, but that is why I carry a sword."

Deria rolled her eyes and grabbed onto his arm, picking up her spear as they exited the tiltyard. "I suppose that's fair. You'd put up a far better fight with a sword."

"And you'd put up far worse," Jaime mused. "I can only imagine what a horrid fight it would be should I carry a spear and you a sword."

Deria let out a laugh and shook her head. The thought was comical to her. She'd seen Ser Jaime spar with the other Kingsguard and a few of her soldiers along the road to Kings Landing, and he was without a doubt one of the best fighters she'd ever seen in her life. However, his spear skills were horrendous, by her standards anyway. He would need a lot of work.

"Well, Ser Jaime, I see you could not best a real man and decided instead to fight young girls."

Jaime and Deria looked up to see Lord Robert approaching them from the stables. The lord was in full battle armor, including a sword at his hip. He carried his helmet under one arm and a shield under the other. It was a very intimidating sight to behold… Or rather, Deria would have been intimidated had she not seen the manner in which he fought her uncle.

"Well, Lord Baratheon, if you could introduce me to this 'real man' you speak of I would be happy to fight with him." Ser Jaime jabbed at Robert without even the slightest attempt at a pleasant tone. "Though, I doubt I would prefer training with that man over the Princess Deria. She's a good deal more beautiful than a man and a great deal better with a spear."

Robert Baratheon bared his teeth at Jaime and subtly reached the fingers of the hand holding his helm to the hilt of his sword. "I'd be happy to introduce you to a real man if you had the time… or the honor enough to bother with him when you are done attacking a little girl."

Deria's blood was practically boiling. She was definitely not a little girl. She was not some pathetic little northern lady who could not defend herself to save her life. She was a Martell of Dorne, a snake in the sand, a spear in the air, and the sun in his eyes. She would not stand for this. "Perhaps, if you think me such a defenseless girl we should test your theory."

Robert, who had yet to give Deria any attention, turned his eyes on her then. "I am no dishonorable Lannister, my lady…"

"Princess," Deria snapped at him.

"My princess," Robert continued as though he had not been interrupted. "I won't fight a battle I know I will win."

"What a good thing then, that I am not a Baratheon, because I never pick a fight I think I might lose." Deria tightened her grip on her spear and dropped her arm from Jaime's.

Robert snorted. He was amused with this little girl. Jaime was not yet full grown, and the young knights head came up to only around Robert's shoulders. This tiny princess was even smaller than that! Where she stood next to him, Robert could see her head barely level with Jaime's shoulders, and on top of that the girl was about as wide around as the trunk of a three year old tree. She was the smallest woman he'd ever seen.

"With a fury like that you just might be," Robert spoke, noticing the fire in the girl's eyes. "If you really wish to defend your little Lannister's honor then so be it." He waved a disgusted hand in Jaime's direction.

Now it was Deria's turn to snort. "I fight the man who dares be so demeaning as to insult my status and belittle my ability." Deria twirled her spear absent mindedly at her side. "I will never fight for the honor of a Lannister. If Ser Jaime wishes his honor defend he's more than capable of that on his own. Though, as far as I can tell, the only man who need defend his honor in this castle is you, Lord Baratheon. Are you this disrespectful to your betrothed as well?"

It was a low blow. Deria knew that. That's why she'd said it. She'd overheard the younger Lord Stannis speaking to the captain of the guard about how ludicrous Robert behaved towards Lady Lyanna Stark, how he put the girl on a pedestal and refused to let her step down.

Robert's eyes were seeing red. He didn't care that this was a noble woman. He didn't care that he would be proving himself as bad as the Lannister next to her. He didn't care that the grounds were slowly filling with people or that her uncle and Ser Barristan had just stepped out of the keep. "Choose your weapon, girl." Robert demanded, storming passed her towards the tiltyard.

"Finally, something interesting in this place." Deria murmured to Jaime in an excitedly hushed tone.

Deria made to leave after him, but Jaime caught her arm. "Princess, while I am more than pleased to see someone else share in my disdain for this house, I really must advise you against this."

"Do I need to fight you too, Ser Jaime?" Deria whispered harshly to him.

Jaime sighed and shook his head. "No, Princess. I'm not questioning your ability. I'm questioning your motive." He let go of Deria's arm and crossed his own over his chest. "Are you doing this for honor, or are you doing this because you feel like you need to prove your worth?"

"Why on earth would I need to prove my worth to that buffoon?" Deria waved a hand at Robert's back where he stood swinging his sword for practice in the yard ahead.

Jaime's gaze followed her hand, but only for a second before his eyes came back. "It's not him you're trying to convince." Jaime leaned in and spoke so quietly in her ear she almost missed it, "Your brother is not here, Deria, and if he was I doubt he'd be happy seeing you put your life in danger over a soul as worthless as Robert Baratheon."

Deria raised a curious eyebrow and slowly began backing away towards the tiltyard, "Perhaps you're right about that, but like I said. I never pick a fight I will lose."

By the time Jaime finally worked up the courage and made his way into the tiltyard, massive crowd had formed around the edge of the tiltyard. He knew Deria was a skilled spearman, but Robert Baratheon was a true warrior. He may have lost the fight against Lewyn, but his brute strength dealt some fairly devastating blows to the older knight. Had Lewyn been anyone other than himself he would've fallen under the weight of the blows.

Jaime pushed his way through the crowd and managed to find his way to the front between Ser Barristan and Ser Lewyn. "Are you as worried as I for the outcome of this?" Ser Barristan asked to no one in particular.

Jaime let Lewyn answer, choosing instead to take his time watching Robert and Deria dress themselves for spar. "I worry after my young niece a great deal… but I don't worry after Princess Deria." Lewyn's statement drew Barristan and Jaime's attention. "My niece is little more than a child. She's a gentle, noble lady of great beauty who is only just reaching marriage age… The princess, however, is a ferociously independent creature who will not stand to be demeaned or lessened by anyone and will certainly not stand to lose, especially to Lord Baratheon."

Jaime had to agree with his assessment. Deria was two people in one body: the kind, respectful noble who was horribly offended any time someone misused her title; the other the exacting, harsh spearmen who trained for days on end with her elder brother.

"Can she win?" Barristan directed his question this time, turning his eyes to Lewyn.

Jaime didn't care though and answered instead. "Deria does not pick fights she does not know she can win."

Lewyn turned on Jaime with a mildly shocked, mildly amused expression. "Her brother Oberyn said the same thing to me when he challenged me to a match during his younger years."

"Did he win?" Jaime asked. He didn't actually care to know. Great a warrior as Lewyn was, he knew what the answer would be. He'd seen the answer in Deria's eyes when she'd spoken to him. The words were as true as her telling him her name. Her brother would be the same.

"Well," Lewyn chuckled, "I suppose he did."

Barristan had listened patiently as the conversation unfolded, but his curiosity got the better of him then. "When did she train? What with?"

Jaime, standing closer of the two to Barristan, answered. "Her brother Oberyn is an expert in nearly every weapon man has ever used. He trained her with a spear from a young age… Clearly he felt swords too cumbersome for a young girl and knives lacking in range."

"Well, Prince Oberyn is many things but none of them a fool," Barristan's tone conveyed how impressed he was where his face would not. It was incredibly rare to see a woman trained in any weapon. No doubt his respect for the princess would greatly rise after this.

A booming voice drew their attention then, "That is all you wear girl?!" Robert Baratheon called across the yard to Deria.

Deria stood, spear propped against a bench as she attached herself with a layer of heavy leather for protection. There wasn't a shred of metal armor in sight, nor a sword. "Metal armor is made for men who fear lose, Lord Baratheon." Deria shot back venomously.

Robert growled under his breath but made no move to counteract her statement. He simply replied by pulling his helmet closed and reaching his hand out for his sword. A squire rushed forward to hand it over.

Deria picked her spear up off a bench and attached the last fastening in her leather before she turned to face down her opponent. They saluted each other, as was expected of them, and then began to circle. All the voices in the yard died in their mouths. No one blinked. It was as if time was frozen in this small plot of land. No one could move. That is… until Robert Baratheon made the first swing.

Deria spun sideways away from the blade as it came down where her foot had just been. Robert stumbled forward a step with the effort from the blow, and Deria swiped up with her spear at his armor, managing to catch one of the leather ties and slice it through.

Robert laughed at the girl, "You missed!" He shouted, charging forward at her, jabbing his sword in every direction she spun off in.

"As are you," Deria pointed out. She dodged every blow as it came down, copying the style of her uncle Lewyn the day before. Robert didn't seem to catch onto this. Her attacks were sporadic, but far more effective than Robert's. Every swing she made for him Robert would laugh at her 'narrow misses', and every swing Deria would wait patiently as another tie in his armor was cut.

Robert was an impatient man who could not stand for strategy in a duel. He swung at the little girl before him as though he had every intention of killing her. At least, that's how it looked to those looking on. Robert was their liege lord, but their voices could not help cheering on Deria. She seemed like such an underdog. They yelled and clapped at her swings, though they were few and far between, and they gasped and winced at Robert's every jab.

The only people who elicited no reaction throughout the battle were Jaime and Lewyn. Lewyn had a look about him as though he knew the outcome before the battle had even started. Jaime, on the other hand, had learned enough from his little training sessions with Deria to know the way she thought. She'd never once educated Jaime on going for the kill shot, always on the strategy of using a spear's range and swing to keep distance and speed. He knew the second he saw her cut the tie on Robert's armor where her head was at.

Sure enough. It only took a few more minutes of harsh jabs with a sword and elegant flurries with a spear before Robert let out a loud cry of shock. Deria had managed to cut the final tie at his shoulder, and Robert's breast and back plates of armor crashed to the dirt yard with a loud clattering noise. As they fell, the plate on his shoulder caught hold of his shield and dragged it from his arm with it. That was when Deria made her move.

With a flurry of movement, Deria charged towards Robert swinging her spear in every direction, confusing the lord who did not know where to block. His sword caught the end of Deria's spear and managed to chop of an inch or so of the wooden handle, but it was too late to make a difference. Her blade caught in the hilt of Robert's sword, and with a firm twist of her wrist the sword fell from his grasp.

"Tell me, Lord Robert," Deria watched the man stumble back with a combination of force and shock. "Do you concede?" She pressed the tip of her spear under Robert's jawline.

A roar erupted from the back of the crowd. It started with the group of Martell soldiers, clapping wildly for their warrior princess, but as the shock of Robert's loss sunk away from the crowd many of Robert's own men applauded the girl's skill.

The Kingsguard lining the front of the yard did not join in. Ser Barristan looked on both impressed and surprised by the young girl. Lewyn simply smirked his admiration for his own blood. Jaime was the only one to smile. His lips spread in a full blown grin that had not graced his lips since he'd been 'honored' with appointment to the Kingsguard. It only occurred to him much later that day, as he saddled his horse for the journey, that he had not smiled so much for Robert's humiliation as he had smiled in pride at Deria's victory.

* * *

Jaime sighed and glanced back over his shoulder. They'd been on the road for several hours now; the sun was stooping lower and lower in the sky by the second. They would likely be stopping at the next inn for the night, and even though it had been hours since their journey had started he'd still yet to talk to Deria.

It's not like he had anything in particular that he wanted to say. There were no pressing issues on his mind that he needed to divulge to the princess. He simply found it a little disconcerting that she had not once even looked in his direction. As their journey had progressed Jaime had found himself becoming more and more acquainted with the young girl to the point that every day of their journey up to Storm's End they rode beside one another. Some days they found themselves talking to no end and other days they barely talked at all, enjoying a comfortable silence. Not today though.

When the troop had entered the stables, Jaime had saddled Deria's horse, as he had become accustomed to doing, and rode off to wait with the Kingsguard by the gate. However upon leaving the stables, Deria was pulled off by three or four of her brother's men who at once tried to put their charms on the princess. Something about seeing her fight Robert Baratheon had inspired the men to try their hand.

Jaime had found himself rolling his eyes at their stories of their heroics in battle, of their time on trading ships in Essos, of their prowess and virility in love making. He'd almost gagged when he heard one of them bragging to her about the number of bastards he'd fathered back in Dorne.

Was this the kind of man that woman of Dorne were interested in? Jaime's eyes went out of focus with thought as he rode along behind Lewyn and Barristan. Jaime had seen many, many tourneys. In fact, he'd won every tourney he'd entered. Yet he was still newly knighted. The rest of the Kingsguard and even the soldiers speaking to Deria now were no doubt far more experienced warriors than he. And they had certainly traveled more than Jaime. Jaime had spent his younger years locked in a castle training with his sword and sitting through lessons day in and day out. He'd only been a squire a few times before being knighted, and never far from his father's eye. As for the love making, well that was something Jaime had no experience in whatsoever.

Jaime let loose a disappointed sigh. He was nothing like the man the princess wanted. What's worse, he wasn't sure why he cared so much about that. It's not like he could ever take her as his own. He was a knight of the Kingsguard. She was a highborn noble of Dorne.

Jaime's out of focus eyes almost missed it as Lewyn pulled back on his reins to lead his horse beside Jaime's. "You know," Lewyn called the boy's attention to the present. Lewyn had seen the way the young knight looked on his niece, and even if Jaime did not yet know, Lewyn knew exactly why Jaime was acting in such a way. "I have half a mind to send them back to Sunspear this instant for the way they are speaking to her."

Confusion came to Jaime's features as he looked up at Lewyn. "For what purpose?"

Lewyn rolled his eyes, "Just because we are more open in Dorne does not give them reason to speak to her with such distaste and disrespect. I mean, bastards are not shunned in Dorne, but they are certainly not something to brag over, dishonoring your marriage."

Jaime nodded in understanding, even if he didn't really know where this was going. Lewyn had said few words to Jaime during their time together in the Kingsguard, and next to none on this trip with the princess. Whatever he was going on about, Jaime did not yet know.

"You know what!" Lewyn growled as the voice of one of the soldiers, telling about how accepting his wife was of his many paramours. Lewyn pulled up on his reins and turned to his niece, "Deria, while I appreciate you indulging these soldiers, I would much prefer you ride ahead with knights of the Kingsguard."

Deria, who Jaime half expected to snap back at Lewyn, merely gave a nod and kicked her horse faster till she rode up alongside Lewyn and Jaime. With a nod of agreement to Jaime and Deria, Lewyn turned and rejoined his conversation with Barristan.

"Thank the gods that is over," Deria murmured under her breath when she was left alone with Jaime. "I thought I would never escape. Why is it that men's immediate reaction to a woman defending herself is to try to dominate her?"

Deria's eyes turned to Jaime with the question, and Jaime smiled and let out a chuckle. This, this was much better.


End file.
